Nightmares
by Sei-sama
Summary: Brave Little Toaster. That horrible night, five traveling appliances stopped to rest. Five dreaming appliances had unforgettable nightmares.
1. A Blanket's Dream

**Wuh-oh, what's this!? Another fanfiction?! **

**Yeah, so I recently rediscovered the Brave Little Toaster and rewatched it and listened to the soundtrack and generally got very obsessed. And so I decided to write something about it. Something simple. It's just like four one-shots. This is the four other nightmares. Toaster had one, why not the others?**

**I'm actually already finished with the whole thing, but it may be a while 'til I get the others up. This is the shortest and most simple one, Blanky's dream. The rest are progressively longer and more complicated. Hey, Blanky's rather child-like, hm?**

**Also, a warning. After my sister read the whole thing, she declared me sick and the dreams disturbing. Trust me, I'm not sadistic. I think. But some of the other stuff are kind of disturbing, I have to admit. They're nightmares, after all.**

**Please review. (Though there doesn't seem to be much of a fanbase of this on this site...)**

* * *

The battery was running low. It was time to bed down for the night.

Blanky settled down as comfortably as he could. He had never been a tent before, although it was kinda like when the Master stood under him and walked around, pretending to be a ghost. Though the Master hadn't been quite this tall.

Kirby was already asleep. Radio was just finishing up his broadcast. Blanky felt tired. He had never stayed up quite so late before. In fact, there had been a lot of 'firsts' for him recently. The first time actually _going out_ of the cottage, for instance…the childish, fuzzy blanket leaned against Toaster and smiled when he was patted affectionately. It was strange. Toaster wasn't this nice before, but maybe this journey was changing everybody.

Blanky yawned. "G'night," he said, and let his consciousness drift away. He was aware of some kind of conversation going on, but that was someone else's…he fell into a quiet slumber.

* * *

It was a nice day at the cottage. The little Master was zooming around, playing as usual. This time, he tied Blanky around his neck and ran around, pretending to fly. Blanky enjoyed the breeze as he flapped a little.

The Master was suddenly ready for bed, though, so they went upstairs to the bedroom. The boy dragged the blanket into the bathroom, where he did those usual weird human things. Some toothpaste dripped onto Blanky, but he shrugged that off.

And finally, it was time to go to bed. Blanky loved this. They slept together and cuddled against each other and it was warm and comforting.

But when the little Master came into the bedroom…something bad happened.

There was a spark, or something, and quite suddenly the Master's room was ablaze, the fire spreading quickly.

The Master was scared, Blanky could feel it. He clutched the blanket tightly and started backing away to the door, but the flame had already surrounded them. In a panic, the young boy tried to snuff out the flames with the one thing he had – Blanky.

He slammed the yellow blanket on the obstructing flames and stomped them out with him, seemingly oblivious to the cries of alarm and pain, and the red-haired boy ran for the door as soon as he found an opening. Blanky was left behind, burning away.

It was painful. He could feel his fabric curling and then falling away. Fire was everywhere. Smoke was everywhere. He couldn't move – too much was burned away. The heat was suffocating. He could feel his very face melting away and the plastic was starting to form a puddle on the charred floor.

Oh god, he wanted this to end! The small blanket wanted to cry, but couldn't. He was only a blanket after all, and his tears would swiftly evaporate anyways. So he settled for a blood-curling wail, one that lasted as long as he could hold, expressing all the pain and fear he held now.

Blanky only stopped when he thought he heard a sound. Was it someone to save him from this hell?

The sound was coming from above. Blanky tilted his melting and soot-covered face upwards and saw the flames licking greedily at the wooden ceiling, which was bulging, unable to hold up without support.

There was a _crack_.


	2. A Vacuum's Dream

**This is Kirby's dream, if you can't tell. This is the one my sister deemed the most disquieting out of all, just saying. I actually had fun with this, as it was a little hard thinking of what kind of nightmare our favorite grumpy vacuum would have. It was also fun making that transition in his thought.**

* * *

Okay, so the day was kind of weird. Kirby rationalized that it was a dream, as he knew that he had been in the middle of the forest, and now he (and everybody else) was sitting in some kind of…shiny…white place. Like a hospital, or something. The whole area was so…smooth and plain. There were no signs of tiles, no sign of people, no doors, no windows, no warning where the walls began and the floor stopped. Really weird.

Not that he was really concerned. It was only a dream, after all.

His dream group was looking around in confusion and slight alarm, apparently since they didn't expect to be in this blindingly white space either. The dream version of these brats were rather accurate. Dream-Blanky looked like he was going to cry and Dream-Lampy constantly jerked his head around, as if trying to see everything even though there was nothing to see. Dream-Toaster looked pretty worried, but wasn't shaking as much as Dream-Blanky was. And Dream-Radio…well…he wasn't entirely sure, with the lack of an expressive face and all.

Only Kirby was not very worried. He had dreams before, and so far, this was the most boring. Piece of cake.

A door suddenly appeared behind them, which is quite understandable in a dream, and opened. Before anybody knew what was happening, the whole space tilted and they fell into the dark room the door led to, and suddenly Kirby was separated. The group was all separated by these tall white men with shiny glasses and surgeon masks and what looked to Kirby like shower caps, which was kind of strange. He couldn't see any of their facial features.

The vacuum was suddenly lying on a metal table blinded by an overhanging lamp. When he turned, he could see the others on similar tables, with some of those white men (like ghosts, actually) surrounding them with…rather dangerous looking implements. "Hey!" shouted the vacuum, despite knowing it was a dream. "What d'ya think you're doin'?!"

The men made no reply. Perhaps they didn't have any mouths. Instead, they went to work. Kirby watched as they leaned over all his…yes, friends, ignoring their frightened yelps. He heard possibly Radio pleading them to _not do that! _before his loud voice was cut off. In fact, it had quickly turned silent, which rather worried Kirby, though he reminded himself it was a dream. And he quickly saw why when the men backed away. Everybody was…just not 'everybody' anymore. They were little parts, all neatly organized on the table. The men seemed rather satisfied with their work as Kirby stared, horrified. It was just so sudden. They…they _killed_ them. They turned them into…trash that he was used to suck up. And he didn't do anything.

They're going to do the same to me, he realized, and looked upward again at the men surrounding his table with their sharp knives and screwdrivers and tried not to shudder, no matter how afraid he was. There was no way out for him, he realized, and he didn't particularly want to escape anyways, not a cowardly retreat without at least giving his friends a proper burial.

But they didn't dismantle him. Instead, they simply cut open his bag, which was painful, yes, but not deadly. They took out everything inside, without regard for his feelings, and then…dumped everybody's remains inside the bag. He could feel the blanket, the grill of the radio, and the bulb of the lamp, all inside there. And they stapled his bag up again. And he couldn't drop them out again. And he was suddenly outside on the dirt, his bags filled with his friend's remains, unable to get _them_ outside. It was disgusting. It was creepy. He couldn't understand what kind of sick person would do that. He stood for a while, then toppled over, frozen in shock. What was he supposed to do? He only left the cottage for them and they were gone, only they weren't, they were inside of him, as if he had just sucked them up like any other regular trash, and _he couldn't handle this_. Kirby lay there, not willing to move.

And then there was one of those white men again, only he was much bigger and held a threateningly giant hammer. The featureless man raised the hammer, ready to crush Kirby and everything inside.

Kirby screamed.

There was a loud _smash_.


	3. A Radio's Dream

**I like this one the most. Toaster actually spoke in this one, and since I'm still not sure whether Toaster's a boy or a girl (you may have your own opinions, but I'm still undecided), I had to find ways around pronouns without making it sound awkward, like I'm deliberately avoiding the subject. I was, of course, but you know what I mean. Also, it was fun to write everything out of character, according to what Radio would like in the beginning. I had a hard time thinking of the end for this one, but it worked out somehow.**

* * *

Radio the Great! He was top of the line! Grade A! Leader of the group! The red radio stood proudly aloft on the chair as Kirby pulled. They had plenty of trouble on their journey, but there was always Radio to dive in and save the day! Or rather, the group. How do you save a day?

This time, it appeared their obstacle was a foreboding forest. Trees loomed in the dark, creating nasty shadows wherever lightning flashed, and indeed it flashed. There didn't seem to be any sign of rain, though. As Kirby backed away a little, as Slots and the Blanket and the idiot Lamp leaned against the back of the chair, only Radio stepped bravely forward! Radio faced his dial to the forest, unyielding!

"Wuh…where do we go, Radio?" queried the poor, (possibly mentally challenged) lamp, trying to hide behind his cord.

"Yeah, you're the only one who can lead us," said Slot-head, whom Radio liked to think of as a second captain. The one who would lead in his place if he ever was unable to. Not like that would ever happen, he was invincible!

With a flourish, Radio stabbed his antennae straight ahead. "Into the forest! That's the way to the city!" He was certain of it, so certain he didn't even need to search for a signal or look at moss on trees and what not. He could feel it in his machinery, smell it in his…grill.

With amusement, Radio noted how the others were still rather hesitant.

"Oh wise leader, Radio," said Kirby, always knowing who was on top around here. "Isn't there some other way to the city? Around large, dark forests?" Others nodded in agreement.

With another flourish, Radio leaped off the chair and landed right on the boundary between plain and forest. He wielded his antennae and pointed at every one of his crewmembers. "Ridiculous! Go around?! Roosevelt…no, _I_ don't go around, like a scared little off-the-shelf newbie! Unthinkable! Besides, think of what we'll find! Danger, adventure, turmoil, more danger!"

The cowardly blanket tried to hide behind himself. Radio couldn't help but pity the poor sap, unable to fight, unable to beat down a wild grizzly bear with eyes closed, standing on one leg and using only a tiny extension cord. More than once, he had to save the kid. From savages, guns, poachers, aircraft, Germans…the guy was lucky to have him around. "But sir, Radio sir, I could do without…danger and adventure and turmoil and danger…"

"Right, right!" the dull lamp nodded quickly, hiding behind the blanket as well. "In fact, through all the forests we've been through so far, this one especially looks especially dangerous, in fact."

"Sir, you must really fix that speech impediment."

"Wha? What're you talking about? Wha?"

Lampy, the orange guy, was most likely senile. Sounded like a broken record, Radio thought. Too bad lamps couldn't just replace some kind of…ah, whatsits, voice chips.

"Never mind, poor chum. Now listen, the faster we go through that forest, the faster we'll get to the city, the faster we get to the Master! Now do you all want to waste time going around? Do you want to arrive late, make the Master wait? Do you want him to know we're all cowards who don't care about him enough to brave a simple forest? Huh? Well?"

The Radio's jabs seemed to work, as they always did. The group looked down, rather embarrassed about themselves. "Now, see here! We can turn our backs or we move forward, like soldiers! Bravely marching, hup two, hup two! To victory!"

And as always, the group cheered with him. "To victory!"

Job done, Radio hopped back onto his captain's spot on the chair. "Forward, skipper!"

"Yes, sir!" Kirby charged ahead, thrusting himself into the creepy forest. Though branches scratched, Radio did not flinch. Though rocks threatened to overturn them, Radio did not budge. His little army may be inexperienced and decidedly unadventurous, but they were learning. He could see it in their eyes.

Even so, they obviously needed him. They didn't even know basic survival skills! Didn't know how to make shelter, a fire, nothing!

Radio wasn't surprised when his acute hearing alerted him to some other presence, though nobody else reacted. He signaled quietly, and Kirby rolled to a quiet halt. He was about to try to wipe the dirt off his wheels, but Radio stopped him in time with a disapproving whack of his antennae. An enemy was about! It wasn't wise to make a sound! What was it? Another bear? Feral wolves? A _pack_ of feral wolves? Horrible zombie telemarketers?

To his dismay and surprise, the others jumped off of the vessel to poke around, as if trying to find whatever it was Radio had sensed. He signaled frantically to stop. What are you doing, he signaled quite furiously. You idiots! Morons! Get back!

And then he saw it, a creature so foul it seemed to be pure darkness. There was a slight hint of gleaming yellow eyes and sharp teeth, and it whipped away in the cover of the trees, too fast for it to be anything on Earth. But Radio could follow it, could track its movements. And he saw that it was headed directly for Blanky, still unaware of the danger. In fact, the young lad was walking straight into the creature's maws!

"Halt! Blanky, come back! Get away!" shouted Radio. Or rather, he tried to. But nothing came out, not even a muffled sound. He suddenly couldn't speak, only jump around franticly as the others looked confusedly towards him, and oh no, the blanket didn't take the hint and the creature's jaws closed on him, panicked cries silenced with a loud snap.

That got the attention of the others. The remaining three zipped back to their wonderful leader and huddled around the swivel chair.

"What do we do!" wailed Toaster, almost pleadingly looking up at Radio.

"Leader, help us out here!" said Kirby.

Lampy turned on his lights, trying to look for the dark creature, but it seemed only Radio could see it. Only he could see it creeping around them, and only he could see that the next target was the dear old lamp.

Still unable to say anything, Radio jumped, hopped, tried to make as much noise as he could, which was much harder without a voice. The three turned expectantly, as if waiting for orders, but then the dark creature sailed by, whisking up Lampy as it jumped across their clearing. The lamp's yell was audibly cut off with a gulp.

Kirby seemed to get very angry now, while Toaster hopped back up to the chair for safety.

"Awright, where is this guy?! Spit them up, right now! Let us pass!"

No, Kirby, Radio tried to yell. He left Toaster on the chair and jumped to the vacuum, who was unable to see the shadow thing behind him. Radio had jumped too late. Though the creature didn't seem big enough to spirit the large vacuum away, it did. There was a loud 'Aaaaagh,' and a loud munch, and the dusty bag was spat out at Radio's feet.

The red radio was no fool. He wasn't going to just stare blankly. There was one more friend to protect! He swiftly leapt onto the swivel chair again and stood protectively in front of Toaster. The back of the chair was behind, and so protecting them. And Radio could still see it rustling sinisterly in the forest. It was just running around them, circling quickly as if trying to make them dizzy, but Radio was steadfast. With or without a voice, he could still protect someone.

A rather large kitchen knife then sliced itself through his body. Radio slid off the sharp implement and fell to the ground, legs twitching. It had hit in the middle of his back and went through his dial. His parts were scattered on the forest floor.

Toaster jumped down, knife in hand, scowling at him.

"What're you doing? Why are _you_ leading? What have you done? You didn't say anything! Why don't you say something!? _Say something_!" And Toaster too was snatched away. This time there was no sound. It only made it worse.

Radio pushed himself up, wobbling. It was a serious wound. And he only had the chair now, no allies to help and heal him. There was light, suddenly, and all the trees melted away, toppled over and sank into the ground. There were suddenly large soldier boots surrounding him, marching off to some unseen point with purpose. They kicked him along as he tried to get out of their path. They were soundless too, unfeeling, uncaring, just going out to die. Radio could see the destination now, through the forest of countless boots – they were all walking into a stone crypt. A man was holding the door open, waiting for everybody to come in so he could lock it up.

No, thought Radio. No, no, no, no! I'm not a soldier! I'm not one of you! I'm not ready to die for anything! He became more frantic than ever to escape. He jumped over filthy boots and dodged kicks, until finally someone knocked him down again, where more parts spilled out of his gash. He looked up and saw the light was being blocked out by a boot.

There was a loud _crunch_.


	4. A Lamp's Dream

**This is the longest one, and my favorite, I guess partly because Lampy is my favorite character and partly because this is supposed to take place right before his heroic sacrifice, with all that lightning stuff and all, and so his dream had to be pretty damn important. After reading this, my sister shouted at me that I was a sick, sick sicko. She also pointed out that Blanky's dream seemed to be the only one not related to the whole group, that he only focused on the Master, Rob. I really didn't mean for that to happen, as Lampy's dream originally wasn't going to end that way (he was going to be crushed by a crusher, ala end of the movie) but I figured this ending was more dramatic. I hope you like this (and don't hate me too much). I'm thinking of making some kind of epilogue, as the way this ends (as all the other chapters have done), it's just...sudden, I guess. Please review.**

* * *

Nighttime. School wasn't really lonely at night, since there were always the other electronics around to talk to, but they were all asleep. Only Lampy stayed up. He had a job to do, after all, and he wasn't going to shirk it.

His light still on, Lampy gazed down at the cluster of white eggs confined in the tank. They seemed to reflect his light back at him. From the teacher, the orange lamp knew that these eggs had to be constantly warmed so they could hatch and little yellow baby birds came out. Usually, it was the mother who sat on them and gave warmth, but in a classroom setting, that was his job. To warm with his light.

He didn't turn his stare away from the eggs. Not at all. Not when the door creaked, not when the tree banged against the window, not when the fan in the corner coughed loudly before finding a more comfortable standing position. This was life he was taking care of! He couldn't afford to avert his glow one second!

Lampy's bulb burned out.

He screamed loudly in panic for a while until a pencil sharpener told him to shut up. Okay, okay, relax. There're a bunch of extra bulbs here. The eggs didn't need warmth constantly, he would just pop into the cabinet and come back with a brand new bulb.

And so he did. The lamp unplugged himself, jumped off the edge of the tank and off the table. He jumped his way to the cabinet and easily wrapped his cord around the handle to pull. The bulbs were at the top shelf, presumably because she didn't want the children getting at them. But no, it wouldn't take long, he could climb quickly, he was experienced at this, wasn't he?

Up he climbed, up and up and up. It was exhausting, but he couldn't stop. So he kept climbing until finally he climbed up besides the small box marked 'Bulbs.'

Somehow, he got a horrible vibe from it. He felt something amiss and felt that, as soon as he looked in the box, something bad would happen, like in those horror movies the teacher sometimes watched. But what was he supposed to do? Just stand around while the chicks slowly died? Lampy determinedly stuck his head in the box.

Nothing horrible happened. But there was indeed something rather horrible. There was only one bulb left.

One bulb. Meaning he had to take his time getting down so he wouldn't break it so the eggs would get his motherly glow. But he couldn't waste time like that!

He heard his name being called. _Lampy…_ It sounded like the eggs were calling him.

"Just, just hold on a second!" Lampy grabbed the bulb tightly with his cord and jumped off without hesitation. Success! The bulb was undamaged. He quickly spat out the old one while climbing back up the table and screwed in the new one just as he hopped back onto the tank so he could shine his light once again on the eggs.

But this bulb was burned out too! He looked at the eggs. They looked dull, devoid of life.

_Lampy…_

"Wait! Just wait!" Lampy spat out this useless bulb, mind racing about what to do. He let his gaze fall all over the classroom and then…of course, he thought, seeing the other lights on the ceiling. "Hey!" he called up. "Hey! Hey! Help me down here! I need a new bulb!"

The ceiling lamps roused themselves aggravatingly slowly. "New bulb?" they asked stupidly.

"Yeah, I need one! Something that'll shine real bright!"

The lights exchanged glances and stared back down at Lampy. Then they opened up their protective covering to show absolutely nothing. "No bulbs," they said over and over, cackling wildly. They suddenly grew arms. "No bulbs! No bulbs!" They reached out to grab the lamp, as if ready to strangle him or to drag him up to the ceiling to join them.

Lampy let his mouth drop open in fear, and he backed up, but he forgot that he was standing on the edge of the tank, so he fell in. He fell for a long time, though the tank wasn't even that big, all the while hearing the jeering "No bulbs!" and the pleading _Lampy…_

He couldn't answer to any of these. He was screaming too much. And finally, he landed rather hard on the bottom of the tank. Though the bottom had been covered in soft grass-like stuff, Lampy's head resounded loudly when it hit the floor.

The eggs were nearby. He could see that the birds inside were dead. The eggs weren't firm anymore. They looked fragile and they were a sickly yellow and they smelled.

Lampy had no idea what to do. He had no bulb and obviously it was too late. The eggs melted away, turned into an ugly yellow gloop on the bottom. They revealed the blackened remains of the unborn chicks. Their beaks were open, as if gasping for air they could never breathe.

Lampy backed away until his back felt the glass wall. Though their eyes were shut and would be shut forever more, he couldn't help but think they were following him.

_Where's our bread…_ they moaned, though their beaks didn't move. Only, they said it all at once so it instead was a confused jumble of words that echoed in the lamp's head again and again.

The unborn, mummy-like chicks turned their heads to him, beaks still agape. Lampy tried, but couldn't back up anymore, so he tried shutting his eyes, but he could still see them, somehow. _Where's our food…_

And they lurched up on their underdeveloped feet. Some fell back down. For a few, the legs snapped off. They advanced towards him nevertheless. The feet also followed. Lampy tried to run past them. _Where's our warmth…_

One of them tried to grab him as he jumped passed, but the twiggy arms meant to be wings broke off, still hanging onto his neck. Lampy gasped and so desperately tried to shake them off that he crashed into the opposite wall. The arms seemed to be trying to strangle him. _Where's our sky…_

Looking back, Lampy could see the others still lurching to him, beaks still open in soundless screams. _Where's our sun…_

Suddenly, their eyes opened. They were gleaming blood-red. In fact, they were blood. Lampy could see it continuously streaming down their black faces. Their beaks suddenly grew sharp teeth that looked like they could easily shred through him. The wings suddenly grew claw-like, seemingly able to piece holes through him. The arms around his neck were doing just that. He could feel them piercing into his neck, hurting him. Somehow, he shook them off. But they simply scuttled back to the advancing mob, which seemed to be fusing together into a large, black monster. Their various beaks screamed at him. It wasn't soundless anymore, he could actually hear it, a sound that drove nails through his head. _**WHERE IS OUR LIGHT!**_

"I…I'm sorry!" wept the lamp, trying to scuttle back, away from this monstrosity, though he knew there was no room to. "It's not my fault!"

_**WHERE IS OUR LIGHT?! **_the beast screeched again, advancing on many small legs. Lampy had scooted himself into a corner. He could only try to look away as this…thing stomped up to him and breathed and drooled on his face.

It scratched him. More holes were added to his body. It bit his cord off. It continued this relentless attack until Lampy had no idea what was holding him together anymore.

Somehow, he could feel that they were just about ready to bite his head off. He wondered if he would feel any more pain after that. He let his tattered body fall over and let himself be vulnerable. What was he supposed to do? Throw grass at it?

But then he was suddenly being picked up, out of reach of the screaming monster. The cry of _**WHERE IS OUR LIGHT**_ grew fainter, as if he was being picked up by a giant.

This giant turned out to be the teacher, a young nice lady. Lampy cringed. He wasn't sure what was coming next, but he knew it was going to be bad.

The woman glared at him disapprovingly behind her glasses. She stared at the tank, which seemed small again, and the raging unborn creature inside. Then she carefully examined all the holes scattered across Lampy and the inside of his head. Then she turned into a monster as well.

Her nails lengthened and her hands grew withered as if she was growing older. Her face distorted, as if it was being sculpted with a pottery wheel. Her chin started to go one way and her teeth fell out and her eyes grew fiery and her skin turned gray and her hair frazzled and moved about with a mind of its own. As she talked, the chin moved further sideways, making her mouth an L-shape.

"**NO BULB,**" she screamed. The lights above cackled and repeated this. "**NO BULB, NO USE! NO BULB, NO USE!**" She screeched this over and over again, as the lights repeated this and the unborn chicks constantly chanted _**WHERE IS OUR LIGHT**_ in the background. Lampy couldn't struggle out of her strong grasp. He was too tired, too wounded, and he couldn't move anyways. He could only watch on as the teacher's face distorted even more, as the whole room seemed to swirl around him, as everything seemed to fly out and glare.

Finally, their voices distorted. As everybody screamed at him **NO BULB, NO USE** and _**WHERE IS OUR LIGHT**_, the voices seemed to circle around him too and grew into something rather familiar-sounding. What did it sound like? Lampy strained his memory.

It sounded like…it sounded like…his friends.

The teacher raised him over her head, and he quickly realized she was going to throw him. With his body in this state, he was sure he was going to fly apart in a million pieces. "No! Stop! Please don't! I'm sorry!" Lampy shouted, but it made no difference.

There was a loud _crash_.


End file.
